Chasing Through Hell
by Aronim
Summary: Maurus, Arianna and Mathias set off for Outland, hoping to pick up the trail of the Dreadlord that almost set both Durotar and Ashenvale aflame. But hunting a single demon in broken Draenor will not be simple, especially with the three-and-a-half side war going on.
1. Ratchet Racket

_I don't own this franchise._

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><p><span>Chasing Through Hell<span>

Ratchet Racket

For the hundredth time, someone bumped into Maurus and he pressed his hand to his side where his purse was hidden under his mail and leather, reassuring himself that the silver and gold was still there. His eyes narrowed into a glare, though it had more to do with the crowd and Ratchet itself than with the one who had jostled him. He was not fond of this city. Most cities confused and discomfited Maurus to some extent, claustrophobic and loud as they all were, but Ratchet had both Orgrimmar and especially Thunderbluff beat in that regard. The roads snaked through the city, widening and narrowing without rhythm and crisscrossing with only the vaguest sort logic, coming together into an irregular web that seemed spun by a drunk spider. Only the main road was straight, cutting a wide path through the city to the docks and that was useless unless you came had a ship waiting when you arrived in the city. The buildings loomed overhead, stitched together from metal and wood into ugly, rickety structures that always looked like they were on the verge of collapsing down on the crowded street.

All of Ratchet reverberated with the grating drone of industry, the shriek of metal, the buzz and crackle of fire and lightning and the occasional boom. The smoke belched from wobbly chimneys fouled the air, adding a heavy, burnt stench to the cloud of sweat and dust on the air and making the sky of the fading day look like blood and ash.

Ratchet was a warning of what the so-called civilized races could do to the pristine lands of Kalimdor. Some praised the enterprising nature of the goblins and he would not deny the brilliance and skill of goblins but he had already seen what they could do when they worked in force. Every time he saw a _Venture Co. _sign, his stomach twisted and his jaw clenched.

He pushed through the crowd to turn down a narrow street, his stride lengthening and getting more relaxed when he no longer had bodies pressed up against him. There were still a lot of people between the buildings, but now that they could, they seemed as eager to keep their distance as Maurus was.

There weren't a lot of businesses on this particular street. He passed between an engineering workshop and a smithy, the only thing distinguishing one from the other being the strange goggles hanging outside the workshop and further in there was a shop filled with all manner of small animals, proudly declaring itself _"Best Pet Store, no dead parrots, guaranteed"_. There was another busy street ahead, past five regular houses, but thankfully, he only had to turn the corner to get to the door of _"The Open Spigot"._ The inn and the surrounding street was one of the few things he liked about Ratchet. Much could be said of the city, but the booming business and the constant change in populace made for an interesting night life.

The inside of the inn was much like most others. Everything was made from solid wood, worn and scratched and stained by years of spilled drinks. Only the occasional splash of paint and the brightly colored bottles behind the counter broke the monotony of the dark wood, though the room was brightened considerably by the green and blue skin and hair in all the colors of the rainbow. In one corner a large, round target hung, dotted with holes and the occasional knife or axe, like the wall around it. Where the inn differed from most inns Maurus knew was illumination. The lanterns glowed with a pale golden glow, completely steady unlike the oil lamps or torches used in most of the world and he was sure that if Ratchet would ever do him the courtesy of going quiet, he would be able to hear their low buzzing. Like all the inns in Ratchet these days, it was crowded. Almost every seat was filled and a lot more people filled the floor, crowding around the tables where their friends sat. The air inside was not as tainted by smog, but was instead flavored with the scent of several types of pipeweed and the sour smell of old beer and wine, much more welcome smells in Maurus' opinion.

The rumble of conversation beat back the noise from outside and somewhere to the right, a gaggle of orcs, goblins, tauren and trolls were stumbling through 'Rogues do it from behind'. The corners of Maurus' mouth turned up just slightly at the bawdy song and he made his way to the counter and with a bit of rough shoving, managed to get close enough to slam a hand on the table.

"Wine," he barked at the fat, apron-clad goblin behind the counter. The goblin handed a large mug to another patron as he looked Maurus up and down with his bulbous eyes.

"What's the magic word?" he said archly.

"Screw you, Nott," he said, allowing a full smile to appear on his face. He dug out a few pieces of copper from a different purse he had hanging in his belt and laid them on the sticky counter. Nott again looked him up and down.

"Not the magic word coming from you," he said glibly. He bent down, rummaging under the counter and came up with three bottles of wine. "But it does make me want to get you out of my face." He handed Maurus the bottles. "So, here."

"What, no glass?"

"Since when have you needed glasses? You chug that spill," Nott said, already turning around to answer another customer. Maurus shrugged, conceding the point even though Nott had his back to him now, and turned in the direction he'd seen a flash of blond hair. He shoved his way to the table, almost in the corner of the inn, where Arianna sat, studying a small, black book. Her staff was lying on the table next to her, next to an empty mug.

Mathias sat at opposite end of the bench from Arianna, facing two orcs and a grey tauren across the table. The trio was clad in red and brown leathers and their hair were in similar long braids, like thick rope. The thick muscles of their arms, bare from the elbows down, were tight with tension and their gaze was intent on the hand Mathias had pressed to the table, fingers spread wide. A rapid beat sounded as he stabbed a small knife into the table between his fingers in a rapid rhythm. There was a definite order to where the knife impacted, but Maurus couldn't quite see what it was at the speed Mathias was going. Mathias gave him a nod before he turned his gaze back to the trio opposite him, smiling smugly. Maurus found it a little disturbing how he so readily looked away from his game of pinfinger.

He edged past Mathias' opponents, who hardly reacted and sat down opposite Arianna in the vacant spot there, shrugging his bag off his shoulders to put it next to the bench. It was mildly odd that there would even be an open spot in the crowded tavern, but he had only just thought that thought when his leg brushed against fur and scales and he realized Ash was lying under the table. That was ample explanation for the open spot.

He put the bottles on the table and Arianna lowered her book, tilting her head in greeting. "Evening," he said. She pushed her mug forward silently and he raised an eyebrow. "Who says it's for you?"

"Previous experience," she said. "We've been pretty much sharing our 'loot'," she added, saying the last word like she was tasting something strange. Maurus sniffed, pulled the cork from one bottle and poured some of the almost black liquid in her mug. He glanced to Mathias' side, but he looked busy, so he just took a swig from the bottle. It was a very rich wine, one he'd had a hard time getting anywhere but Ratchet, though it was pretty cheap here, and it seemed to wash some of the bad taste of Ratchet away.

"How long has he been doing that?" he asked, gesturing at Mathias with the bottle.

"Long enough that they will soon be reduced to wagering their gear," she said before drinking deeply of her mug. "Though it wasn't knifing in the beginning."

Out the corner of his eye he saw Mathias handing over the knife. The orc in the middle was glaring darkly at Mathias who just smirked and flicked his eyes down to the table. The orc put a hand down next to a cup filled with dice and put the knife down below his thumb. The dark green fingers were already spotted with little specks of blood.

Maurus rolled his eyes as the beat of metal on wood began, quickly getting faster. He had nothing against at good little wager, but he cared too much about his fingers to engage in that sport. He took another swig from the bottle and watched the knife getting faster. The orc was doing well, though Mathias didn't look worried. His smile even widened a fraction when the orc looked up at him.

"Rogues do it-" Mathias said, trailing off as his eyes moved from the orc's face to a point just past his shoulder. Alarm flittered over the orc's face and his friends half-turned, just as the orc winced when the knife came down, cutting through the outside of his pointer finger. The knife clattered on the table as the orc looked over his shoulder and saw nothing but the same crowded room.

"What the hell was that?" the orc snarled, squeezing his injured finger with his other hand.

"It's a catchy song, don't you think?" Mathias said. He looked at the orc's hand. "Seems you lost again."

"You tricked me!" the orc retorted through clenched teeth.

"Come now," Mathias said, glancing around the room, "you can hardly say I'm more distracting than the entire tavern. It isn't quite a library is it?" A flicker of confusion went over the orc's face, mirroring Maurus own. Mathias continued before he could answer: "Now pay up."

Maurus could almost hear the orc's fingers crack. He looked ready to leap over the table to strangle Mathias. Instead, he sprang to his feet and slammed a coin down on the table.

"I hope the naga sinks your ship," he growled and the trio gave Mathias murderous glares before they stalked off. Mathias picked up the knife and the coin and moved a feet closer to Arianna and Maurus.

"You're not making a lot of friends," Maurus commented. Mathias held up the gold coin between two fingers.

"Can't be friends with the whole world, " Mathias said, flipping the coin over his knuckles. "And they shouldn't have bet if they couldn't do without the money."

"You could do without though," Maurus answered. "We're not exactly poor at the moment."

"More never hurts. Spending some wouldn't hurt either, Outland sounds like a whole different beast than Kalimdor."

"We're leaving in the morning," Maurus said. Mathias stopped playing with the gold coin and his expression turned serious.

"Finally," he muttered. Arianna turned a flat look on him and closed her book.

"You're the reason we didn't leave with the ships that left the day after we arrived here," she said bluntly. Mathias grunted in annoyance, but didn't argue and when Arianna looked at Maurus, there was a distinctly pleased look in her eyes. She gestured for him to continue.

"We're paying through the nose," he grumbled, "but that gives us a cabin rather than having us sleep in the hold."

"Extravagant," Arianna said, raising an eyebrow. "A little more so than when I came west." Mathias gave him a questioning look and Maurus snorted in annoyance. He hadn't expected any reaction except maybe a little pleased surprise to them getting just a bit more room than planned.

"I just might begin throwing people overboard if I have to sleep in a room as packed as theses streets are," he said darkly before drinking deeply of the wine. "I think this was a better option."

"When you put it like that," Arianna said lightly, pushing her mug forward again. He raised an eyebrow but filled it again and handed the flask to Mathias. His eyes fell on the book in front of her and a thought occurred to him, one that he felt guilty for not remembering sooner.

"Before you get too drunk," he began. An affronted expression settled on Arianna's face, but it shifted into surprise when he continued: "I guess you know how to write?"

"Yes?"

"Could you help me write a letter?" he asked, reaching into his bag and grabbing a piece of parchment, a little jug of oil and a harpy feather.

"Of course," Arianna said, a slight question in the answer.

"I'm not very good with letters," he explained, pushing the writing supplies across the table. Instead of taking them, Arianna rose and walked across the table to sit beside him. Then she picked up the ruddy red quill with an absent motion and dipped it in the ink while she smoothed out the parchment with her other hand.

"I thought it better you didn't have to shout your letter across the table," she said in answer to his questioning look. He tilted his head in acknowledgement, opened the second bottle of wine and had another mouthful, cleared his throat and began: "To my honored Mother and Father-"

Mathias jerked to his feet, making him pause in surprise.

"I'll see if I can't make my winnings multiply," he said, stalking off with the first bottle, now half-empty. Maurus stared after him for a moment before turning back to Arianna, who held the quill ready.

He gathered his thoughts and continued: "I hope this letter finds you well. By the time it reaches you, I expect the news have reached you that the Dark Portal has opened. Your wayward son is going on a hunt and I expect it will take me beyond this world." He stopped, considering his words and watched with some admiration how fast the quill darted over the parchment. When Arianna's hand stilled he'd found the words again. "It will be some time before you see me again, but I will return triumphant and bring you back a trophy that will truly make you proud, taken from a foe both fierce and deserving of death." Again he paused, feeling his voice turn a little rough and took another drink as he waited for his voice to feel steady again. "Till then, I pray the spirits will watch over you. May the earth always carry you to water and shade. Your devoted son, Maurus."

He drank again as Arianna finished writing and, without prompting, read the letter aloud. She'd changed a word or two if he hadn't already forgotten what he'd said, but it sounded like it should. She touched a drop of ink next to his name before she rolled up the parchment and tied it with a little red ribbon he hadn't noticed before then.

"Thanks," he said when she laid the letter in front of him. Something heavy seemed to settle in his chest at the sight of it. It seemed to make the coming journey more real. "We're really going to Outland," he said quietly, as he packed away the writing utensils.

"Assuming Mathias' friends don't get their wish," Arianna said. Her voice was nonchalant, but there was something else in it that he couldn't quite place. One of her hands drifted idly along the dark wood of her staff.

He made an effort to shake off his trepidation. "That means this will be our last night in Ratchet for a while," he said, raising the bottle, "and there are lots where this came from."

Arianna gently bumped her mug against his bottle, drained her glass and reached for the third bottle. As she opened it, he asked: "What do you know about it?"

Arianna's knowledge of the orcs' old homeland was based on the stories of the few elves that had made it back from the exodus, but he still learned much more about it in the following hour. The way she described it, it didn't seem as much of a demon-infested hellhole as he'd expected. It still sounded barely inhabitable though and he found himself wondering how different it had been before the demons came. He'd never met an orc old enough to remember it and he wasn't sure he'd dared to ask if he did.

He noted with some surprise that Arianna kept pace with him pretty well, drinking a good share of the wine and when the bottles were empty, much faster than expected, they made their way to the bar. Somewhere along the line, the conversation wandered from Outland to Desolace.

"A kodo graveyard?" Arianna asked, wrinkling her nose. "I can't imagine the smell." She was leaning on the counter, her staff between them, her mug of wine raised in front of her. Ash lay behind them, much less effective at keeping people at bay now that they were where the booze was served.

"It's a sacred place," Maurus half-grumbled, giving her what was supposed to be a playful shove, but she had to take a step back not to fall over and wine splashed out over the counter. He jerked his hand out to catch her, but she'd already steadied herself when he got a grip on her shoulder, giving him a slight glare. He grinned a little sheepishly.

"It isn't somewhere you stay longer than you have to," he admitted, noticing the slight numbness in his fingers and the looseness in his arms for the first time. "It's-

He trailed off when he caught a glimpse of horns and dark wings behind Arianna. His pulse quickened for a moment before he noticed that the lithe winged shape was wrapped around a robed orc in a very affectionate way.

"What?" she asked, pushing his hand off her shoulder so she could turn in the direction of his gaze. He shrugged.

"Just spotted one of your fellows," he said. "He seems to know how to get hold of the more sensual demons."

"So do I," Arianna huffed irritably, turning back to Maurus. He tilted his head and raised the bottle to his lips again.

"I thought you couldn't, in the mountain?"

"That was hardly the best time," she snapped, resting her elbows on the counter. "And I wasn't getting the missing component in _that_ crowd," she muttered into her mug.

"Huh?" Maurus asked. Arianna turned her head on her side and looked at him. There was a bit of color in her cheeks now and he silently counted how many bottles they'd had between them. Four. Or something like that. He turned the bottle in his hand upside down and only a single drop of wine dropped onto the counter.

"Could we forget that I mentioned that?" Arianna groaned as Maurus dug up a coin and held it out for a server to see.

"What were you missing," he asked slowly, smirking. She rolled her eyes, but he simply held her gaze and after a few seconds she muttered: "Felhounds are blood hounds. So blood goes into the summoning."

Maurus nodded as his coin was snatched from his hand and a bottle was placed next to his arm.

"Succubi," Arianna said, drawing out the word expectantly, making a circular motion with her free hand. Comprehension eluded Maurus for a few moments, but then his eyes darted to the orc warlock over in the corner and back to Arianna. He remembered one of the sessions with the shamans in the tribe, when they talked about symbolic links and sympathetic magic.

He burst out laughing. "To get that," he managed, pointing a finger vaguely in the direction of the orc and his succubus, "you have to-"

Arianna gave a little nod and smiled, seemingly in spite of herself.

"Seems to defeat the purpose," he chuckled. After a moment, Arianna let out a short, low laugh.

"I never considered that," she said. Maurus gave her a look, both eyebrows raised.

"Sure you didn't," he said, looking across the bar. On the corner opposite them, he spotted Mathias sitting between two other forsaken, a small flask of brown liquid in front of him. He was about to raise his bottle in salute when he noticed the crowd around Mathias draw back to admit two familiar orcs. He rose to his feet and Arianna tilted her head slightly in question.

"Sore losers," he muttered, jerking a thumb in the direction of Mathias before he began making his way around the counter. The crowd was thick and stubborn, not very willing to allow him passage. With his height though, he had had little trouble seeing over the crowd when the front orc, the one who had lost the last game, spun Mathias around. He clearly heard the shout, slightly slurred: "Give me my money, you cheat!"

Mathias raised his hand and said loudly: "I only have my money. But you can have a drink." He laid his hand on the counter and opened it, revealing a handful of silver. "In fact, everyone gets a round!"

A roar of approval went up at the announcement as Maurus reached the edge of the crowd. A small space had been cleared around Mathias and his two assailants and there was a buzz of excitement in the air.

"That's my money you're using!" the orc shouted, grabbing Mathias with both hands. Mathias just grinned his rictus grin, seemingly unconcerned, despite the other orc moving close, his hands closing into fists.

"Make it two, barkeep!" he called out, as Maurus walked up behind the orcs. Mathias didn't look at him and the orcs didn't seem to notice until he slammed a hand down on the shoulder of the shouting orc and pulled so he had to lean backward to avoid falling.

"I'd take the drink," Maurus said lowly, glaring down at the orc's upside down face. The orc returned the glare, a hint of surprise in his brown eyes, before his snarl changed into a slight smirk as he looked to Maurus' left. He turned slightly, only then noticing the hard stomp of hooves and rocked backwards when a fist connected with his face. His muzzle numb, yet throbbing dully, he backed a few steps, seeing the orc fall to his back out the corner of his eye as Mathias leapt at the other orc. He was more concerned with the tauren in front of him though. He had been more focused on the orc when Mathias had been playing pinfinger, but now he got a proper look at the grey tauren. He was slightly shorter than Maurus and just slightly leaner, but he stood heavily on the floor. His leathers were faded and worn, but very well-crafted from what Maurus could tell and the few places they had been patched showed skillful work. His horns rose from his head in a slight curve, the color of bleached bones, scratched, but whole and well-cared for. There were a few scars on his forearms, easy to spot with how he had his hands raised up to just under muzzle where a thick steel ring pierced his nose. The sight made the scar on Maurus' own nose tingle under the blood running from one nostril.

"That's my friend, Grimtotem," the tauren growled, speaking the tribe name like a curse as he lashed out. Maurus blocked the punches with his forearms, hardly feeling them.

"What's wrong with the Grimtotem?" he asked darkly, forgetting both Mathias and the fact that the tauren had his tribe wrong. He lunged to the side before sending two blows into the side of his opponent and stepping back out of reach.

"You're fanatics, stuck in the past," the tauren snarled, attacking again. Maurus blocked and dodged the first three strikes, but the fourth and fifth got past his defense and dug into his stomach. He exhaled sharply, his stomach aching from the blow but he felt a spark of vindictive satisfaction when the other tauren winced. If nothing else, wearing the mail today made it painful to punch him.

"You'd rather the Venture Co. have free reign to level the mountains? Poison the water?" he asked as they went round in a slow circle. To his right, Mathias was holding the two orcs at bay and he noticed that the crowd was watching with rapt interest.

"I'm at least not stupid enough to fight poison by getting help from plaguebrewers!" the tauren spat when he noticed what Maurus had looked at. The words hit him harder than the physical blows had, dredging up a memory he'd rather forget. Again his eyes flicked to Mathias and the inattention cost him when the tauren lunged forward. He kicked forward into Maurus' shin and punched him in the side twice before Maurus pushed him off, getting an elbow to the side of the head in the process.

The pain shook him out of the moment of disquiet and anger overrode any other emotions he felt. He stormed forward, batted aside one punch and took the other on his right shoulder before he reached for the tauren's face.

"You're stupid enough to have that," he snarled, one finger looping around the nose ring. "And this", he added, grabbing hold of one of the braids with his other hand. He pulled hard on both and the tauren was forced to follow as he spun. He released the hold after a full turn and his opponent was half-hurled away from him to crash into a table. Mugs, bottles and glasses were launched into the air as the table tipped. The patrons leapt back to avoid the splash of beer, wine and other drinks, barreling into the people around them and a moment later, one of the spectators threw the first punch. Like a wave, fighting erupted through the crowd and by the time Maurus had turned around and made his way back to Mathias, who was still fighting the two orcs, the inn was in a riot. He felt the strange exhilaration that often accompanied anger and he grinned at Mathias when he grabbed the orc again, this time with both hands. The surprise in the orc's expression as he hurled him backwards made him bark out a laugh.

The crowd closed around them, a tumultuous whirl of bodies and noise and Maurus lost himself in the brawl, side by side with Mathias. His blood pumped through his veins, his muscles felt loose and ready and there was a buzz in his whole body. He punched a troll into the side of a different tauren, almost fell over an orc and saw a goblin flying, shrieking, through the air. Not long after that, from where he'd fallen on the floor, he saw a troll fly in the opposite direction before he was helped up from the floor by two green hands and shoved towards another tauren.

He laughed and roared and punched and wrestled, his movement through the crowd only half his own choice. He had ended up back at the table he'd toppled with the other tauren at the beginning of the brawl when a boom and a blinding flash of light suddenly lit up the room. He reeled back, both from the assault on his senses and from the kick to his stomach from a goblin who had launched herself from the toppled table. The noise died down unevenly, but swiftly. Where the air had been alive with noise a moment ago, now there was only the rapid breathing of the crowd, the clatter of a single, miraculously intact bottle rolling across the floor and the ringing in Maurus' ears.

As he blinked spots from his eyes, he heard someone near the door exclaim drunkenly: "Damned groinbiters!"

"I heard that," a squeaky, but distinctly male voice said in a deceptively pleasant tone. The words were followed by a loud crack and a pained wail and the crowd parted quickly, allowing the five goblins to walk through the open space towards Maurus. They were clad head to toe in mail and all five carried a spiked mace, half as long as they were tall. Four had their weapon casually slung over their shoulders, but the fifth one was lifting it from the broken leg of a whimpering orc near the door. The entire group carried themselves with the assurance of someone several times their size.

People called Ratchet's bruisers groinbiters, but only the stupid did so to their faces. Every single one of them was a mean little crazy who would gladly crush the kneecaps of those that annoyed them and the skulls of anyone who they decided deserved it. And they did, in fact, live up to the name occasionally, if the rumors were true, which was a horrifying experience for all involved.

"Hey there, hero," the front goblin said as he came to a halt in front of Maurus. His expression was one of casual interest but his eyes locked on Maurus with dark intensity and his words had only the thinnest sheen of friendliness. His nose was crooked, one ear had a large chunk of it missing and his face was blemished with shallow, healed craters. Despite his size, the scars made him look grizzled, not ridiculous.

Maurus knew not to underestimate goblins and he knew this one. For the second time that night, he recalled an ill-advised undertaking a few years back and something twisted in his stomach. It came out as anger.

"Don't call me that, Sprack," he growled. He'd hoped to avoid any bruisers that actually knew him. Ratchet was a big city; it should have been possible, even if this visit had drawn out more than usual. But it had to be this one that appeared.

Sprack ignored the protest and drawled: "I don't know if this is a step up from your Grimtotem buddies." Maurus followed Sprack's gaze and saw that Anistriana and Mathias had appeared at to his left. Mathias looked ruffled, his nose bent oddly and a there might have been a cracked tooth that had been whole before. Arianna looked like she'd avoided the brawl but looked irritated. They both looked ready and able to support him though.

"Cutting out the middleman and dealing straight with the plaguebrewer this time?" Sprack asked. Maurus clenched his fists, the twisting in his gut making him feel sick.

"I'm not of the Society," Mathias said, before Maurus managed to find any words. He put a hand on the pommel of his sword and added: "I go for the simpler approach."

"Good, good," Sprack said casually. His eyes narrowed. "Then again, that's what you'd say either way, right?" Mathias shrugged, showing no concern, despite the hard stares the goblins directed at him. Maurus noted that the two forsaken Mathias had been drinking with had now joined them, leveling the cold stares only the forsaken were able to make on the goblins.

Sprack turned to Arianna and looked her up and down, pausing at the top of her staff, which seemed to glow more brightly than usual, before his gaze came to rest on Ash standing at her feet, growling low in his throat. He smiled, a white crescent without any warmth. "And a warlock. For a defender of the natural world," he said, sneering the three last words, "you sure choose funny friends."

Maurus finally found his voice and ground out: "I choose my friends carefully, Sprack."

"Doesn't look like it," Sprack said flatly. He glanced around the bar, at the overturned chairs and table, the bruised and battered patrons and the shards of glass and clay littering the floor. He slung his mace down in front of him so he could hold it with both hands and his men followed his example. Maurus put a hand on his own mace. The crowd around them held its breath and he thought he could feel Arianna draw up magic. "Doesn't look like you know how things work anymore either," Sprack continued as all trace of civility fled from his face, leaving no expression except for the naked hatred in his eyes. Maurus' finger closed around his own mace as Sprack tightened his grip on his. "Might be you should hobble out of the city after we've refreshed your memory."

"Sprack, relax!" Nott's voice cut through the tension like a knife and Sprack jerked his gaze away from Maurus to the goblin that had waddled to his side, unnoticed by either. "Do you have a screw loose, Sprack? If we have less than a couple of brawls in a week, it's slow going. This isn't an offence worthy of getting worked over by you, is it?"

Nott glanced up at Maurus, grinning smugly. "Particularly when I know that he can pay for the damages. Right, big guy?"

Maurus looked down at the innkeeper, too stunned to answer for a moment, and then nodded slowly. Nott's smile widened and he turned back to Sprack, spreading his arms in a friendly, conciliatory gesture.

"See, no problem. The worst that happened here are glass stuck where it shouldn't and some broken bones, and one of the latter is on you people."

"If that is what you want, Nott. It's your inn," Sprack said flatly. He turned his gaze on Maurus and Mathias and added: "If I catch you near any of the wells, broken bones will be the least of your worries. You'll thank me by the time I put you up next to the pirates."

With that, he turned and walked out the inn. Maurus' gaze followed the goblin, his anger ebbing away, leaving him feeling simply drained.

Nott poked Maurus in the side and he winced as the bruise forming under the mail protested. "You can pay, right?" he asked seriously. Maurus nodded again. "Good," Nott said, nodding to himself. "It seemed that way from how your friend was spending, but, just making sure."

He noticed the still silent crowd and resolutely walked over to Mathias. "Now, this here fella," he said, clapping a hand onto Mathias shoulder, "promised two rounds."

The crowd again shouted in approval, though it sounded weaker than before, many of the voices hoarse or muddled by broken noses or sore throats. Nott held up a finger.

"But nobody gets anything before everything you lot knocked over is right side up again!"

The sound of wood scraping on wood filled the in along with a rising din of conversation as the bruised and battered patrons righted tables and chairs.

"They fight over spilled beer, but promise them more and they do as they're told," Nott chuckled. The comment failed to brighten Maurus' mood. He turned and looked down on Nott.

"I'll pay you in the morning," he muttered.

One of Mathias' forsaken friends tilted his head. "What about happened to those other three? They had a hand in this too," he said, half to Maurus, half to Nott.

The innkeeper shook his head and Maurus sighed but Mathias spoke before either, his tone rather smug: "I won all their money."

"Not enough that they couldn't get too intoxicated to consider their actions properly," Arianna said.

"I tried," Mathias said. His tone was casual, but the quick look he gave Maurus betrayed some curiosity. "But I earn my money, I don't mug Horde." His eyes followed Nott as he waddled back towards the bar. "Speaking of money, let's spend some more."

Maurus shook his head and put a hand on Mathias' shoulder and his other on Arianna's. "I'm done for tonight," he sighed, "thank you for the help."

With that, he turned, ignoring Arianna's curious gaze, and made his way across the room, grabbing his bag before trudging up the stairs to the room their room.

* * *

><p><em>Well, this is the next one. I hope you like it and whether you like it or not, throw me a line. Any input is appreciated. And I think I just barely managed my deadline of three weeks, yay.<em>


	2. Wistful Voyage

_Still don't own Warcraft. And another heads up for returning readers: Anistrianna is now called Arianna, because it is less unwieldy but quite similar._

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><p><span>Chasing Through Hell<span>

Wistful Voyage

Maurus was leaning on the railing of the _"Green Boar", _looking back toward the land he had been born in as the ship made its way out of the bay. The sun shone down on the Barrens, turning the hills and plains beyond gold. The water sparkled silver and sapphire, and Ratchet's ugly streets were partially obscured by the hundreds of sails in the harbor, hiding metal, soot and steel behind a riot of color, greens, blues, even purple and very prominently, various shades of red. The smell of salt and seaweed, wood and tar filled his nostrils, soft and gentle compared to the suffocating smell of smog and smoke and too many people, which he'd breathed the last week. The groan of wood, creaking of sails, the lazy slosh of the waves and even the shriek of the seagulls seemed to caress his ears after the forceful drone of Ratchet's industry.

Maurus' mood wasn't as bright as the day. The encounter with Sprack and the memories it had stirred still lingered in the back of his mind, sore like an old wound that had been ripped open, and the sight of the shore slowly growing more distant put a hollow feeling in his gut. A whisper of fear crawled along his skin and through his body, as light yet impossible to ignore as the tread of a spider.

On his right, Arianna leaned against the railing, her head resting in her right hand. The mild breeze coming off the shore played with a strand of hair and made her ponytail sway slightly. She seemed lost in thought, her slightly narrowed eyes unfocused, as she idly traced circles on the rough wood with her left hand. For once, her staff was not within her reach and its absence and that of Ash, was jarring. The felhound had not been welcome on the ship so he'd been sent back to the Nether and with how packed the ship was, that was probably for the best, but it was still an odd sight. Many passengers stood along the railing as well, looking back at the city they had left with expressions ranging from boredom, to excitement to trepidation.

"It's a wonder we were able to get out of the harbor." Mathias' voice was hoarse, but otherwise he gave no sign that he hadn't gotten any sleep. He was on Maurus' other side, a flask of wine in his hand. Maurus nodded absently, his eyes again trailing over the myriad ships still in the harbor. From here they looked like a solid wall of wood, upon which grew the most colorful forest he'd ever seen.

"You missed out on a good night," Mathias continued. "I tripled my winnings after the fight."

"So you paid Nott," Maurus muttered, glancing toward Mathias just in time to catch him nodding. That explained why the innkeeper had refused payment for the damages earlier, saying it was fine though still taking a good handful of copper for handling Maurus' letter.

"Any of your victims on the boat?" Maurus asked, looking around him at all the strangers on the deck. He really didn't want to have to watch out for sore losers the next month and a half.

"I honestly have no idea," Mathias said nonchalantly. He leaned forward, a little stiffly, to look past Maurus to Arianna. "You should ask the elf too, she also won herself some money."

Maurus grunted and shrugged and Arianna didn't even react.

"You're not very lively today and you're the one who got a night's sleep," Mathias mused. "Still hung up on what that snot stain said?"

"No," Maurus grumbled, only half-lying. On his other side, Arianna tilted her head just slightly while Mathias raised a wispy, dry eyebrow. Maurus snorted irritably and shook his head. "Doesn't matter."

"Doesn't look that way," Mathias said bluntly. Then he lifted the wine bottle to his lips and upended it, before throwing it overboard and turning his back to the sea.

Maurus sighed and turned his head to Arianna. "So, _are _there anyone on the ship we should look out for?" he asked, mostly just to change the subject.

"None that I have noticed," she answered, sounding bored.

"Then again, her memory might be as hazy as mine," Mathias said lazily, turning his back to the railing, putting his weight on his elbows and leaning backwards so he could still see both his companions. "As I recall, you outdrank a shaman last night, a tauren one."

Maurus looked Arianna up and down. He would never deny that she was tough as bone, but as thin and small as she was, he could hardly believe that she could keep up with a tauren.

"Really?" he said, a chuckle bursting from his lips at the thought. She seemed to drag herself out of whatever she'd been thinking of and nodded, a smile appearing on her lips. Maurus whistled before asking: "How are you standing?"

"Weak constitution on his part, I presume," she said, though her expression was slightly smug, almost proud. That she would take pride in that seemed odd somehow and he chuckled again.

"What about the other three you outlasted?" Mathias asked. "That also a fluke?"

Maurus felt his eyebrows rise as he took that in, still looking at Arianna.

"The goblins make thin wine," she said half-heartedly.

"And that was before the knife-throwing, wasn't it?" Mathias said. Maurus quickly looked from Mathias and back to Arianna.

"Why didn't you cut loose the other nights? I missed out," Maurus laughed, clapping a hand on her shoulder. She winced and closed her eyes for a moment.

"Oh, that's why," he said. He padded his belt and found the pouch he usually used for small amount of food. Today, it only contained one wizened, twisted root, the color of bone. "This should help," he said, holding it out to Arianna. She looked at it suspiciously.

"Well, I didn't end up needing it. Might as well put it to use."

"What about me?" Mathias asked, feigning an affronted tone and giving Maurus a mock glare. "I feel all neglected."

"You don't get hangovers, do you?" Maurus asked, then added: "There should be enough; it's a dosage for me after all."

The irritated expression on Mathias face vanished as quickly as it had appeared. "True," he admitted easily, studying his right hand curiously. "And I wouldn't be needing it for a while yet anyway."

Maurus turned back to Arianna, who still hadn't taken his offering. "I tried your demon magic," he said reasonably. "And it's not only tauren who use this, if that's what you're worried about. Just take a good bite."

Still looking skeptical, she took the root. The look of surprise on her face when she realized how tough it was made Maurus' lips twitch in a smirk, one that got wider when she had to gnaw on it for a few moments before she managed to rip a chunk off it. It simply clashed with her usual air of dignity.

"That should take the worst of it," Maurus said. "Keep the rest, I'll see if there is some work they can use my help with."

With that, he turned and walked away. His dour mood had been considerably improved by that conversation and Maurus silently thanked Mathias for that. The darker thoughts still lurked in his mind, but the empty feeling in his stomach had almost vanished. He was determined to keep his spirits up. Otherwise, it was going to be a very long trip.

* * *

><p>Green fire danced in the black armor and the same flame filled the eyes which looked at him with cruel intent. The dreadlord smiled.<p>

"Take him to the summoning room. We still have use for him."

The felguards stepped towards Maurus and he tried to move, tried to scream, but he was frozen, his muscles numb and unresponsive. He could do nothing but watch as the demons reached for him and their blue hands clamped down on his shoulders like twin vises.

His eyes snapped open and he sucked in a startled breath. The world under him lurched alarmingly and his hands shot out to either side, trying to find something to brace against. His left hand found only air but his right hand flattened against a wooden wall and he managed to steady himself enough to look around in confusion. His heart beat furiously as he glanced dazedly around the small, dark room but after a few moments, the feel of rough wood against his palm and canvas against his bare back cleared his muddled thoughts and he recognized where he was, the cramped little cabin they'd paid for. Above him, swinging gently, was another hammock, and the faint outline in the fabric told him Arianna was still fast asleep. That was a small mercy. Some nights, when she'd happened to be awake, she'd woken him from the nightmares, but seeing eyes green with fel fire was the last thing he needed when he woke from these nightmares. Several times, only her quick reflexes had allowed her to avoid his fists when he'd groggily lashed out. As grateful as he was for her cutting his nightmares short, he'd rather she let him be and avoid the risk of injury.

She hadn't stopped her from waking him though and he'd returned the favor by nudging her hammock whenever she began turning and tossing too much for her sleep to be restful. It never failed to stop her thrashing.

Mathias' hammock, placed in extension of his own, was empty, like it had been almost every night of the trip, only the bags beside it betraying that there was anyone using the room beside Maurus and Arianna.

His heart still thudded in his chest and the nervous electricity running through his body told him he wasn't going to get back to sleep anytime soon so, with a sigh, he turned and carefully put his hooves down on the floor to avoid disturbing Arianna. He rose, picking up his mace in the same motion and took two short steps to the door and opened it as quietly as he could, fumbled his way through the hold and climbed up to upper deck. There was little activity on the deck, only the bare minimum needed to keep a steady course, and the night was quiet, with only the rustle of the wind and the creak of sail and ship disturbing the silence. It was only just now he realized how noisy and smelly the hold was, practically rumbling with snores and heavy with the smell of unwashed bodies.

He immediately spotted Mathias. He was sitting with his back against the railing, his sword resting in his lap, head tilted backwards, stretching out the wounds in his throat. His face was slack, empty, displaying neither the sardonic amusement nor the intensity it usually did and his milky eyes stared into the sky.

Maurus walked over to Mathias and put his hands on the railing, taking in the sight. Sky and sea bled together into a dark, all-encompassing void that seemed to only contain them and the other ships around them and the myriad of stars above were mirrored in the water, making it seem like they sailed through the night sky itself. The sight was both beautiful and frightening, so very alien to him, even after weeks at sea and the homesickness, which had faded to almost nothing over the weeks, became a little stronger at the reminder of how far away he was from what he knew. He stood there in silence for a few moments, looking down at the glint of light on the waves, before he glanced at Mathias again. He didn't seem to have even noticed Maurus' presence.

"You've made yourself scarce," Maurus said finally. It was true. He'd hardly seen Mathias after the first few days on the ship, quite a feat considering the size of the ship and especially the size of their cabin. In the silence that followed his question, he looked out into the darkness again. Some distance away, a little to his right, two dots of light, warmer than the surrounding pin-pricks of light, revealed the ends of the ship at the rear of the group.

"I seem to recall you saying that I wouldn't make any friends by winning money," Mathias finally answered, the words coming out quietly, dispassionately. "Thought I'd stay on the good side of the ship by not fleecing them all."

Maurus frowned and it took him a moment to recall when exactly he'd said that. "That was weeks ago. You didn't seem to take it to heart."

"Garm always said I was slow," Mathias said quietly. He was limp, his gaze vacant. He hadn't moved, hadn't even changed expression. Maurus completely forgot the lingering unease from his recent nightmare and the hollow in his stomach. Instead, something heavy settled in his chest as he remembered the spray of blood and Mathias' heartbroken cry.

"How long did you know him?" he asked quietly.

Still Mathias didn't move. "Light's Grace, years," he said, just a hint of emotion seeping into the words. "Met him just after we joined the Horde. He visited the Tirisfal with some other shamans. First orc I met who didn't seem disgusted. Of course he was blind drunk, but still."

'_From how you describe those lands, I would have gotten drunk too,'_ Maurus thought, but he didn't let the rude thought show on his face. He just gave Mathias an encouraging nod.

"Most people are disconcerted by this," he continued gesturing to the holes in his throat. "Garm thought it was brilliant. Said it just meant I could drink even the worst booze without having to taste it." As he spoke, muscle moved around bits of exposed spine and Maurus forced down a slight, oily nausea. It had taken him a long time to get used to the walking dead, especially the fact that many of them were now allies and he was usually able to ignore their injuries, but it was harder when they were pointed out. Garm apparently had a stronger stomach and a disgusting sense of humor but Maurus still felt his lips quirk upwards a bit.

Mathias continued: "More than that, he was the first person I'd met since my rebirth who seemed genuinely happy. Our lands discomfort the living." He raised an eyebrow and Maurus got the feeling he hadn't kept a straight face as well as he'd thought. "And back then, even the most cheerful of us had an edge to their smiles."

He paused for a heartbeat.

"Of course, most of us still do," he admitted, echoing Maurus' thoughts. "But joining the Horde was the best that ever happened to us." He ran a hand through his straw-like hair and sighed. "I should have stayed and buried him. Honored him properly and told his family in person, not through a damn letter."

Maurus turned and slid down next to Mathias before he reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. Mathias' head jerked round in a very stiff motion which betrayed his lack of sleep.

"You do honor him," Maurus said gravely. The sight of mounds of rock hiding a hundred dead and the sound of orcs falling screaming to their deaths appeared in his mind and his words slowly intensified as he continued: "You seek to avenge his death and when we succeed, we will not only have avenged him and all the others that died during those weeks, but we will have done the Horde a great service."

"_If_ we find the dreadlord," Mathias said tonelessly, his gaze going back to the stars above. "If we have not already lost the trail for good. We don't even have a name."

Maurus finally understood. With no certainty that they were even on the right track and unable to do anything but wait and hope, restlessness and doubt, the same Maurus felt some of the days, had let grief come to the surface. He squeezed Mathias' shoulder, then shook it just slightly when he realized Mathias couldn't feel it through the steel shoulder plate. Mathias looked at him again, eyes tired.

"Arianna will get the scent," he said firmly. "And I swear, on my honor, that I will see this through, or die trying."

Mathias looked at him, the slight widening of his eyes telling Maurus that he realized how serious that vow was.

"Thanks," he said quietly.

Maurus nodded grimly at him. "The demon has a lot to answer for. We'll make certain he does."

Mathias nodded and looked back up into the black sky. Maurus patted him on the shoulder before lowering his arm and looking up too. They sat there in silence for a long while, until Maurus again drifted off to sleep.

* * *

><p>The sun rising over Stranglethorn Vale was the most beautiful sight Maurus had seen since they'd left the Ge'Am Islands. A thin white band of sand separated the blue waves from the blooming green of the jungle, which stretched to the north and west as far as the eye could see and seemed to go on endlessly towards the east. The only thing on the shore that wasn't green or white was directly ahead of them. Grom'Gol was a fortress of sharp, black wood and ruddy red roofs. A single, massive zeppelin tower stood out from the other, lower buildings, which was partly obscured by the scores of colorful sails in the harbor. Hundreds of people scuttled over the piers and ships, loading and unloading crates and sacks and bags.<p>

The day was hot, like the previous days, but it was only as they edged into the harbor, when the air became filled with cloying sweet smells and the heavy, wet scent of rotting wood and plants, that Maurus really noticed it. At sea, the fresh spray of water and the breeze took the edge off, but between the other ships in the harbor, the humidity closed around him and dampened his fur, making it hang limp and heavy from him. He was not looking forward to donning his mail and leathers.

"Finally," Mathias murmured beside him and he couldn't agree more. Over at months at sea was not his idea of a good time, despite the voyage having been as smooth as one could hope for, according to Arianna. It seemed to take an hour before they laid down the gangplank and finally got off the ship and it was an effort of will to not simply push his way through the crowd on the pier. When he finally stepped onto the continent, feeling earth instead of wood beneath his hooves, a nausea he had hardly noticed vanished and it was only now that it was gone that he noticed how off-balance he'd felt the whole trip. He felt refreshed despite the humid air and didn't even care about the people pushing past him.

"Cow, keep up!"

Maurus blinked and looked at Arianna. She was standing a little further ahead and Maurus realized that he'd stopped and that the crowd was moving around him, some of the people giving him irritated stares or rolling their eyes at him. Mathias had already vanished in the crowd, going ahead with his errands without a word. He shook himself and waved for her to just go ahead. She did so and Maurus began looking around for butchers and bakers.

Grom'Gol was almost as busy as Ratchet, but that and the roar and stink of the crowd were about the extent of the similarities. The roads were straight paths of dark, damp earth, churned up by the hundreds of feet and hooves that moved along it and the squat buildings around were sturdily built, completely unlike the thin, teetering buildings in Ratchet. Outcriers stood at every crossroad, shouting for the men and women of the Horde to report to the northern path out of Grom'gol, to begin the journey to the Blasted Lands.

It didn't take him long to find supplies. Getting a somewhat reasonable price for the bags of bread, cheese and smoked raptor meat however, did. Getting some fresh fruit was even harder, but he managed. After the weeks at sea he really needed something that didn't require soaking it for a while before it could be chewed. By the time he was finished with his purchases, he was feeling noticeably poorer, despite the fact that his purses still were pretty heavy, and the relief of being on land again faded somewhat, dampened by the wet heat and the unceasing assault of Stranglethorn's mosquito population.

Two hours before noon, he met up with Arianna and Mathias. They were waiting in the shadow of the zeppelin tower, seated on an empty crate someone had left behind and their bags and some bundles of cloth Maurus assumed to be tents had been placed against the wall of the tower. Between them lay three round, yellow-orange fruits and what looked like peels from more of the fruit was scattered on the ground around them. Mathias was slicing up a fourth fruit with his knife, while Arianna was peeling her own with slow, methodical movements, while she studied Mathias' shield, which lay in her lap.

"Now we won't starve," Maurus said by way of greeting as he reached them and dropped the bags of food on the ground. "But you're carrying some of it yourself."

Mathias lifted his head and grinned at him and Maurus was pleased to see that the intensity was back in his gaze. "I take it you have good news?"

"She found him again," Mathias said.

Maurus snorted. "Good to hear that our faith was well placed," he said mildly. Something flashed across Mathias' face, but it was gone a moment later. He leapt off the crate and picked up one of the bags.

"Yes, you were right, now I've said it," he said impatiently. "Let's get going before we lose him again."

Maurus looked down at the bags he'd just put down and made a show of sighing. "If you insist."

"I do," Mathias said, snatching up his shield before walking up the north road with quick steps. There was something different in his stance, more like a predator curled up and ready to pounce than like someone carrying a heavy weight. _'To think I can tell the difference in how he slouches,' _Maurus thought wryly before he looked at Arianna. She sent a slight glare after Mathias before she picked up her bag and packed the strange fruits.

"If only we could take a zeppelin," she said, sending a short, wistful glance upwards. Maurus followed her gaze and felt a little shiver go through him. He was somewhat glad that the zeppelins were all reserved for supply transport though that thought made a slight sting of shame go through him. He should be as impatient as Mathias, not concerned with such petty unease.

"At least we're sure we don't get incinerated before we get to the Portal," Maurus said as Arianna shrugged on her bag.

"Assuming you don't get on the bad side of any mages," she answered, nodding at a passing pair of trolls in brightly colored robes as she picked up her staff and the peeled fruit. "Or me."

"I doubt you'll want to burn me again," he answered as they walked out of the shade and into the street. Traffic was lighter than in Ratchet, but that just meant that there was about a foot or two between them and the orcs, elves and trolls around them.

She considered him for a moment as they walked. "There _were_ some times on the "_Boar"_," she said with a slight smirk. "But it seemed irresponsible in such flammable surroundings."

Maurus thought back and mentally winced as he recalled the worst of the days, where he, in hindsight, had been insufferable from a mix of seasickness, homesickness, worry and boredom. He thought a little more and shrugged. "You had your moods too," he said pleasantly. He put exaggerated seriousness into his words when he added: "But I am thankful for your amazing restraint."

"You pushed me out of my hammock, more than once," she said, sidestepping a brown-furred, plate-armored tauren hurrying in the other direction.

"Those weren't the only times you were about to light someone on fire," he answered calmly. He looked straight ahead, towards the gate in the distance, when he continued, voice quieter and a great deal more serious: "You seemed to be suffering."

There were a few moments of silence and Maurus wondered if he'd touched a nerve. He kept his gaze pointed towards the gate, absently noting the large number of tauren rising above the crowd. Then Arianna's hand appeared in front of his face, holding the peeled fruit.

"Orange?" she asked. Thrown by the question Maurus asked dumbly: "Yes it is?"

"Just try the fruit, cow," she said. He accepted it with a raised eyebrow and took a bite. Sour and sweet juice filled his mouth and in a few more bites he'd eaten it all.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before he said: "Huh, that's something else. Much better than the limes."

Arianna wrinkled her nose. "Of all the fruits on Azeroth," she sighed, before shrugging. "Then again, we still have our teeth."

Maurus nodded, opened his mouth, then stopped and frowned as he realized something. "Where's Ash?" he asked, raising his voice to be heard over the outcrier they passed. He'd gotten used to Arianna without her demonic pet, but now that he thought about it, he'd expected her to summon the demon as soon as possible.

"I didn't summon him," she answered simply. "I'm considering consulting some of my other minions about our quarry."

Maurus waved a hand for her to continue as the crowd thinned ahead of them.

"Don't tell Mathias, but the horn still might go cold. I've never worked with tracking a dreadlord before and if that happens, a name, or any lead really, would be worth a lot."

Maurus frowned. He'd become accustomed to Ash, he was even comfortable with the hound at times, and that worried him now that he thought about it. But having one of the other demons with them, one of the more intelligent ones that could talk, truly concerned him. Then again, he couldn't deny the logic in seeking out more information and Arianna would do what she found necessary, regardless of what he might say.

"Why aren't any of them around then?" Maurus asked as they walked through the gate. The area around Grom'Gol had been cleared of trees, leaving maybe four hundred feet of flat dirt between the walls and the nearest looming trees. The space was filled with people and beasts though, and it was almost as noisy as it was inside the walls.

"I don't have the components," Arianna said. When he glanced toward her, she added flatly: "Not even a shard."

Maurus recalled the ominous crystals she had used to summon Ash and decided he didn't care for further explanations at that moment. Instead he straightened and looked around.

"Now, we should probably find our forsaken friend."

It took them only a short time to find him, impatient and irritated by the news that no-one was leaving till early afternoon. He almost looked like he was about to set off by himself, but Maurus managed to convince him that going along with the group was more likely to go well.

Secretly, Maurus was glad to have a few hours of rest on solid ground before they headed into the jungle and he used the time to get some less urgent supplies before leaving his things with his companions and heading out into the water a little ways from Grom'Gol. He wasn't alone in taking the opportunity for a quick dip. A lot of those who had made the trip across the sea seemed to have had the same idea and the number of other people in the water calmed any worry he might have had about being ambushed by murlock or sharks, making it the most relaxing bath he'd had since the one he'd had just before coming to Ratchet.

Finally, with the sun an hour past its zenith, the two hundred strong Horde regiment and a motley collection of animals and a lot of kodos pulling wagons set off into the dense jungle.

* * *

><p><em>What do you think? And sorry for the long wait, I got swamped and this was a hard chapter to write. Hope this chapter well still entertain you, despite its lack of action. I need to work on character interaction and I thought that there were some things I needed to mention, like Maurus' feelings on this whole thing and the fact that Mathias is actually grieving, still, just mostly in a "avenge the dead"-kinda way.<em>


	3. Haunted Forest

_Still own no Warcraft except a copy of III and a couple of the WoW discs._

* * *

><p><span>Chasing Through Hell<span>

Haunted Forest

The night under the canopy was dark except for the fires slowly appearing in the camp, yet it was as lively as the day had been. There was a hustle and bustle in the camp and the drone of conversation and snorts of beasts moved through the air along with the ever-present hum of mosquitoes. Maurus glanced up from the bottle in his hand when he noticed someone moving towards him and Mathias, who was crouched a few yards away from him.

"Are you really making a fire? In this heat?"

Arianna sounded and looked like she questioned either their sanity or her own eyes. Even after the sun had set, the air beneath the canopy of Stranglethorn remained heavy and muggy and the sheen of sweat on her face and the sodden state of Maurus' own fur were twin testaments that heat was the last thing they needed. Then again, the fire wasn't for warmth.

"Raptor's better cooked," Maurus answered, gesturing to his right, where four thin lengths of metal had been set into the ground, with chunks of dark meat hanging from them. A few yards away, Mathias rose from his crouch, revealing a small flame spreading over the kindling. Already, several fires were burning brightly in the camp around them, but the sputter and crackle of this particular flame made Maurus' mouth water in anticipation as Mathias placed a spit across the budding fire before sitting down on his right side.

"That I can't deny," Arianna said as Maurus opened his liquor bottle and poured a splash of clear liquid into his palm. When he smeared it over the long, shallow cuts across his torso, he hissed and Arianna sighed. He looked at her just in time to catch her rolling her eyes.

"Yes, I know, I should have worn the mail," Maurus said, the irritation in his voice directed more at himself than her. He'd underestimated the ferocity of the huge raptors when they came out of the jungle and he clenched his teeth briefly in annoyance at coming off like a greenhorn. Mathias' frank nod didn't make it less embarrassing.

"Though I agree, that wasn't what I meant," Arianna said. As she sat down beside him, she almost casually pulled a health stone from her bag and dropped it in his lap. "Here."

Maurus looked at the sickly green rock for a heartbeat before he snatched it up, for some reason worried about having it that close to his groin. "It's just a few scratches," he said, though he didn't hand back the stone.

"Are we going to have this conversation every time?" she asked. "You have the help of a warlock, use it."

Maurus considered the stone for a long moment, watching the dark glow twist weirdly in the stopper he held between two fingers and the bottle of liquor in his other hand. Then he closed his fingers around the rock, which crumbled to dust between his fingers and winced as he felt the magic sear its way through is arm and fuse the rents in his chest shut. He was reminded him of how he'd been able to feel Arianna's magic burn through her when they'd fought the succubi on that mountainside. Though he'd gotten a lot more used to how the magic felt, disturbingly used to it actually, he found it incredible that anyone could become so accustomed to it that they could concentrate through it and the spin of nausea.

"Speaking of help, hand me your shield," Arianna said, snapping him out of his thoughts. He looked at her and raised an eyebrow, stoppering his bottle of disinfectant before putting it away. She waved a hand at him impatiently and he put a hand on his shield in a half-protective gesture.

"Why?" he asked.

Arianna pulled a small, familiar black book from her bag, along with a small, red pouch and leaned forward to drag Mathias' shield closer.

"Yes, you're welcome, thank you for asking to borrow my shield, again," Mathias said blandly, turning the meat.

"Thank you," Arianna said blithely, producing another item from her bag. It was a thin rod, gleaming in the half-light, topped with a smooth sphere and tapering off to a point at the other end. She turned her gaze back to Maurus as she put the rod on the ground and answered: "To make it better. Shield please."

Maurus hesitated another moment before he handed her the shield. She visibly strained to lift it and when she laid it over her lap, it completely covered her crossed legs.

She opened the red bag and poured a small pile of fine, silver-blue dust into her palm and carefully put the bag aside. She looked intently at the glimmering dust for a short moment before spreading the dust out over the shield with a gently puff of breath. Casting a glance at Mathias' shield again, she picked up the enchanting rod before murmuring a low, continuous stream of words Maurus couldn't understand. The tip of the rod began to glow, shining brighter and brighter until it blazed with a light that was almost painful to look at, revealing the metal to be warm gold. Very carefully, she put the tip against the shield's surface and slowly began tracing sigils into the metal.

"Never seen an enchanting before?" Mathias guessed. Maurus shook his head. He'd seen a lot of magic in his life, but he'd never seen anyone imbuing items with magic, never even had the chance to experience the shamans of his tribe enchant anything. He'd been declared talentless long before that and the shamans were secretive about that art. He pushed the thought away without effort, only feeling the barest, fleeting twitch of bitterness and watched curiously as Arianna worked. The light lingered for a moment in the wake of the rod, like frozen flame, before seeming to sink into the metal.

Maurus almost jumped when Mathias tapped him on his shoulder. He accepted the piece of meat with a nod and dug in eagerly, still watching the enchanting. Only a short time later, Arianna put down the golden rod and reached for some food of her own.

"Was that it?" Maurus asked, stabbing his knife into another bit of meat. Beside him, Mathias was gnawing on the leg of a raptor, a raw one. Arianna shook her head and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"It will take some sessions," she said. Maurus reached over and took back his shield. It was almost impossible to see any change, but if he tilted it right, the light caught in very shallow grooves.

"This is- What do I owe you?" Maurus asked, his eyes lifting from the shield. "That stuff is expensive, isn't it?"

Mathias snorted and eyed his own shield. "Like diamonds and peace."

Arianna waved a hand and smirked. "I consider it an investment. If you can handle some fire too, you'll be more use standing between me and demons."

"True. But I still insist on paying for the dust," Maurus said firmly.

"You just keep carrying the gold till I need it then," Arianna said. "I don't need the extra weight."

Maurus made low, amiable sound of agreement and for a little while they ate in silence.

"You know, Stranglethorn doesn't live up to its reputation," Maurus mused around his last mouthful of food, wiping his fingers on the grass beneath him. Arianna raised an eyebrow in question and Mathias made an inquiring grunt before sucking out the marrow of the raptor bone with a loud slurp.

"I'll admit the wildlife is nasty and I've never had such use for my tail before," he said, flicking his tail to dislodge a mosquito or two and swat another on his trousers. He wasn't sure they could sting through them, but he wouldn't be surprised if they could. "But '_Green Hell' _seems like an exaggeration."

"Guess driving the trolls out of Zul'Gurub did a lot to that effect," Mathias said. Maurus couldn't help but glance to the east. They weren't that far from the ruined city, but they hadn't seen a single hostile troll, so Mathias was most likely right.

"It's hell on my nose though," Arianna said, scrunching up her face. "The jungle by itself is tolerable, but all of you don't exactly freshen the air."

Maurus and Mathias snorted in unison and Maurus reached out, pulled Arianna toward him and made a show of loudly sniffing her hair. He found himself wrinkling his nose more than he expected as he inhaled the sour stench of old sweat.

"You're not any better than us," he chuckled, letting go of her and as she leaned back from the almost overbalanced position Maurus had pulled her into, she gave him a startled half-glare. He just let out another chuckle and leaned back on his hands, giving her a look that challenged her to contradict him. For a moment she held his gaze, before she turned her head to look out into the jungle.

"I do think you might find it more of a hell if you left the road," she mused. Maurus followed her gaze to the solid wall of dark green on the edge of the area that had been cleared around the road. The half-distinct trees almost clung to each other, and thick vines hung like ropy webs where there was space between them.

"You may have a point," he admitted. He glanced at the vines that were creeping along the ground, as if trying to reclaim the road. "I think I'll be thankful that this road sees so much traffic."

"And here I thought you didn't like the masses encroaching on nature," Arianna said lightly, smiling slightly.

"I doubt the jungle needs my help," he said amiably. He lips twitched in annoyance and he flicked his tail again when something settled on his back and added: "To be honest, I don't want to be here any longer than strictly necessary."

* * *

><p>Maurus' wish was granted. They made great time and Stranglethorn didn't prove any more dangerous on the rest of their way. The only real danger they were ever in came from the suicidally aggressive wildlife and those attacks turned out to be a convenient source of food when they got used to it.<p>

The worst Maurus could say about the trip was that it was uncomfortable. Worse than the animals, in Maurus' opinion, were the heat and the insects, the latter in particular. Despite using his new tent, the mosquitoes got to him and the itching stings and the incessant buzzing, promising more stings, made sleep harder to find. That the mosquitoes seemed to leave his two companions alone only made it more irritating, though the heat seemed to bother them just as much as it did him.

At least, that was the case until Arianna did as she'd planned and summoned one of her other minions. The void walker didn't have any of the information she sought, but it did seem to drain the heat from the air, so Arianna kept it around, despite the effect its presence had on many of their traveling companions. Maurus had begun striking up conversation with several of the orcs and tauren, but when Arianna nonchalantly appeared with the dark, apparition-like being, Maurus' new acquaintances abruptly turned cold and curt with him. He couldn't truly blame them. He wasn't comfortable with the demon either, even if it was silent, but the rejection still rankled.

Others, however, weren't deterred by the demon. A few blood elves and the occasional orc or forsaken came down to their end of the caravan during the days and their surprisingly good company, and that of Arianna and Mathias, was one of the things that made the trip seem quicker than it was. It didn't seem like they'd traveled more than a week through the dense greenery before the heavy heat began to lessen and the jungle started changing. Slowly the plants on either side of them became less like a solid wall and the places where nature seemed to try to reclaim the road became fewer and fewer. As the land began to gently climb, the vine-choked trees around them slowly gave way to more open land, though they only left the trees behind when they climbed up into the mountains.

Finally coming out from under the canopy and, more importantly to Maurus, leaving the insects behind, made him almost giddy. It was the first place in the Eastern Kingdoms that had felt so much like home and despite the slight twist in his gut, the familiar feel of rock and dirt under his hooves put him at ease. He wasn't the only one whose mood improved during their trip through the mountains. Most of the caravan, Arianna and Mathias included, seemed as relieved as he was to be out under the open sky and feeling the wind against their faces again.

They passed over the mountains in good time and good cheer. Foreboding Duskwood, spreading out before them, didn't trouble them much, nor did it elicit anything but chuckles when the leaders of the caravan declared, at the tops of their voices, that anyone taking from farms or fields on the trip would be nailed to a tree for the Alliance to find, even though they knew the threats were completely serious.

When they entered the Duskwood however, the bleak pall covering the forest became harder to ignore. It seemed darker than it should be beneath the skeletal trees, considering how bare the trees were. The massive, twisted trees rose from the ground around the road, reaching with grasping fingers for a clear sky that seemed dull and lifeless. A musty scent of rotting leaves and crops, tinged with something rancid, hung in the air and the wind whispered through the forest like dying sighs.

Though they tried to hold on to an air of stubborn boisterousness, the bustling conversation dwindled as the days passed, though it never quite died. Even Arianna was affected and her partly serious complaints and the half-lectures that Maurus kept provoking her into gave way to wary silence.

Maurus tried to keep their spirits up, partly by insisting, both to himself and to the others, that it wasn't that different from Desolace and partly by talking with Mathias, who seemed unaffected by their surroundings. Mathias seemed thrilled with how quick their progress was and seemed utterly unconcerned with how ominous the complete lack of life in the forest was to the rest of them.

"Now that reminds me even more of home," Mathias said and pointed ahead with his sword, towards the abandoned town the road was leading too. On either side of the road were long-abandoned fields which the forest had not yet reclaimed. Enclosed by rotting fences, the rows of thin, spectral stalks swayed in the wind, rotting alongside low bushes and other weeds which filled the gaps between the stalks, turning the fields into dense shrubbery reaching halfway up Mathias' chest. Maurus noted sadly that there were only half-again as many weeds on these fields as there were on the other small fields they'd seen, and those had clearly still been in use. He was no farmer, but it seemed farming in Duskwood was a thankless profession.

The wreck of a town was the first settlement in Duskwood they were going to pass through. They'd taken the southern roads, clinging to the mountains, both for speed and in order to avoid going through the more populated areas and risking any incidents. Even if the Alliance was allowing the Horde passage through the territory, there was no reason to push their luck.

Maurus gave a vaguely inquiring grunt in response to Mathias comment and shifted his grip on his axe again, glancing out over the decaying fields as another breeze made sent waves rippling across them towards the town. Even here, a stone's throw from the shade of any tree, Duskwood lived up to its name.

Everyone was on guard despite the scouts they'd sent ahead claiming the place was abandoned. It was common knowledge that it was rare for something to stay abandoned for long and the only question in Maurus' mind was if anything in the town would be willing to attack them. If there was anyone hostile in there, they were biding their time, waiting for the tail end of the caravan, where Maurus, Arianna and Mathias were, to enter the town limits.

"This looks a lot like Brill, oddly enough," Mathias said. Maurus looked at the buildings. They'd obviously been built to last, with thick timber and solid brick, but the wood was rotting, lined with splotches of mold, the bricks were crumbling and the what color there had been had long since faded or peeled from the houses. The houses had had a surprising amount of glass windows, but none of them were intact. Only twisted window panes remained, studded with shards of glass, like dark mouths filled with small, crystal teeth and their breath was the putrid scent of rot and fetid mildew.

"If that is the state you keep your cities in, I'm amazed anyone gets out of your lands without illnesses," he said. He tried to keep his tone light, but he didn't think he quite managed to hold back a bit of disgust. He gave Mathias a half-grin to take the edge off and added: "Then again, I will consider myself lucky that you seem to be one of the cleaner forsaken then."

Mathias snorted as they walked into the shadow of one of the ruined farmhouses. "Mold isn't as bad as you people claim," he said. "And we know how to keep things apart. Can't get the plague vats and the wine barrels mixed up now, can we? I'd be murder on trade."

Maurus didn't react to Mathias' comment. The town seemed as dead as it had looked from the outside and the noise of the caravan struck Maurus as almost improper, like they were disrespecting the dead. Something slithered along his back, a warning or just a chill of fear. He glanced around, past the people around him, many of whom looked as on edge as he was, and found his gaze drawn to windows and doorways, dark, gaping holes in the buildings.

"Can you imagine the complaints?" Mathias chuckled, then lowered his voice into an aggravated growl: "I wanted that well spoiled, not spiked!"

The spark of amusement Maurus had felt at Mathias' previous comments evaporated and he frowned darkly, his stomach roiling with a mix of regret and anger. At his silence, Mathias glanced at him, then at Arianna and raised an eyebrow.

"Where'd your sense of humor go?"

Arianna was the first to speak, voice flat: "Nowhere. You're just being tasteless."

Mathias snorted and Arianna's voice got a little harder when she continued: "You'd not joke if you'd seen-"

Mathias' grin faded and his voice was as dark as the expression his features twisted into when he interrupted: "I have."

Maurus felt slight nausea and his mouth went dry as his thoughts turned to memories he'd rather forget. He remembered the guilty helplessness, the oozing stench, the frail bodies and the feeble, pained moans. It was almost as if he could still hear them.

He was shocked from his thoughts when a mournful, sonorous ringing filled the air. His eyes were drawn to the bell tower, which loomed over the town like a neglected and crumbling tombstone. He stared for a moment, transfixed by the ominous sound, then shook his head and, guided by some instinct, turned around. Several of the blood elves around him did the same, as did Mathias and Arianna and it was not a moment too soon.

"Scourge!" a blood elf paladin shouted, equal parts alarm and hate in her voice.

"Tighten formation!" Maurus bellowed, forgetting in the heat of the moment that he wasn't in charge of anything. The group around him obeyed immediately, the casters gathering within the ring formed by the fighters, a handful of warriors, shamans and a paladin. Payta, one of the tauren actually in charge, nodded curtly at him and lifted her immense shield.

From the rotten fields and the houses around them the living dead dashed towards them. Maurus hadn't seen any hostile undead since the few he'd encountered during the Third War and the sudden reminder of how monstrous they were sent a chill through his bones. The withered, rotten ghouls were bent over so low that they almost ran on all fours, spines twisted grotesquely, so they'd been too low to see when they ran through the fields. Some were naked, revealing their rotting bodies entirely, but many still wore torn clothes, tattered cloaks or dingy armor and though most were unarmed, some carried rusting blade and crude clubs. Their hands and feet were bony claws, their jaws hung open, too-wide to look natural, revealing yellow teeth and black nubs, and their eyes contained nothing but a savage hunger.

Maurus roared in challenge, trying to drown out ghouls' horrible, sickly moans and the heavy tolling of the church bell. He swept his axe out in a wide arc, slicing through the first three ghouls that reached him, and their bisected bodes slammed against his body. Before he could reverse the swing, two more ghouls leapt at his right shoulder, their claws catching hold around his pauldron and digging into his mail. They snapped their jaws at his face, and Maurus had to shake himself furiously to stop them from simply climbing close enough to reach his neck. He swung his axe again, cleaving through more of his enemies, forced to take a step back from the swarming ghouls. He almost fell over when the ghouls on him lost their grip, one falling to the ground in convulsions, the other ripped off by massive, blue-black hand.

"Burn!" Winen hissed viciously and a group of ghouls were tossed back by an explosion of fire which made Maurus' exposed fur curl in the heat. The cold hate in the blood elf mage's voice was at odds with the levity he'd displayed during the trip through the jungle.

"Scouts have worse eyesight than our bats," Mathias said quickly. He was on Maurus' left, his sword darting out in silver arcs, slicing off hands and crippling legs and splattering thick black blood onto the ground. On Maurus' other side, Arianna's void walker stood like a wall, slamming fists almost as big as Maurus' own into the ghouls. Several ghouls faltered and crumbled, decayed flesh sloughing off from rapid corruption and turning black from the heat of demonic fire as Arianna chanted frantically behind him.

"I'd have said they should have smelled them," Maurus replied, his words coming in rough breaths as he pushed back two ghouls that were clawing at him over the handle of his axe, "but I can't say I thought about the smell either."

A smoky ball of purple-black energy passed him and knocked down a ghoul that had been poised to leap at him. He silently berated himself for the moment of inattention and shut up, just as a rapid drumbeat filled the air. A distinct rhythm, six beats for every moment, penetrated the shouts of the Horde and the groans of the undead, sounding out the order to push forward.

They moved further into the town under the clashing notes of drum and bell and the pressure of the ghouls' attack eased up slightly, despite the ghouls clambering over the buildings and racing down the streets. The flash of magic lit up the dark sides of the houses and flame, frost and lightning tore at the ghouls with as much ferocity as the steel in the Horde warriors' hands. The ghouls attacked with reckless abandon, to little effect, yet with each enemy Maurus felled, a gnawing suspicion grew in his gut.

Something sharp jabbed into his leg and he kicked out in response, only looking down in time to see a small head with tufts of black hair shatter as his hoof connected. Bile rose in his throat as he saw the tiny ghoul drop the rusty knife and crumble to the ground. He bellowed like a wounded kodo and lashed out even wilder against the next ghoul, blinking away a stinging in his eyes.

It was then the ringing of the bell stopped. Despite the battle raging on with the same fury, the sudden absence of the ringing made it seem oddly quiet and Maurus felt his fur stand on end from head to hoof. Despite the battle din, he noticed a raspy voice ring out a quick string of words filled with power, words that Maurus vaguely recognized and he saw a cloaked ghoul straighten slightly, one of several rising above the rest, and thrusting a rotted hand forward.

Out the corner of his eye, Maurus saw the ghouls rush past him, through the translucent, powerless shape of Arianna's banished void walker. The ghouls leapt on Wiven like a pack of rapid dogs and he vanished beneath them with a scream. In a desperate move, Maurus stooped down and swung his axe as low to the ground as he dared. The ghouls were knocked back, revealing a bloodied, wide-eyed, but thankfully still breathing Wiven.

Maurus didn't pause to help him up, turning back toward the attackers, just in time to try to dodge the sword stabbing at him. As the steel clanged against his mail, shouts of alarm and panicked cries rose from the rest of the regiment.

The ghoul darted back to avoid Maurus' return blow. It looked as inhuman as all the other ghouls, but the armor was intact beneath the grime and spots of rust and a glint of intelligence shone in his rotting eyeballs.

"Stick together," Payta bellowed, pushing back several of the undead with powerful shove of her tower shield, lashing out with her hammer at another armed undead, which, unlike the rest, dodged.

As Maurus obeyed, forming a ring with the other warriors around casters, he glanced further into the town and felt his stomach sink. The undead that had wounded him was only one of many who had hidden among the ghouls and the surprise attack had been terribly effective. Blood elves, tauren and orcs littered the ground, those not yet dead getting trod underfoot by the feet of the ghouls. The long, rectangular formation of the regiment had been broken and was now separated into a dozen groups of wildly varying size. They were hard pressed, forced on the defensive as the mindless ghouls threw themselves at the blades of the Horde while the intelligent ones darted forward to take advantage of the openings that appeared.

It didn't look completely hopeless though. He took heart in the sight of the kodos raging through the undead, their massive size and weight simply overpowering the tide of dead flesh. The Horde casters were doing their part, taking down the intelligent undead whenever possible and there didn't seem to be coming more ghouls to the battle, so with luck and strength, they might just be able to grind down the undead.

He pushed back a trio of ghouls clawing at him and felt another rush of heat hit him, almost painful in its intensity. He glanced to Payta just in time to see the last remnants of the fireball die against her shield, but his gaze was drawn to the ghouls maybe fifty yards from him. They were as rotted and inhuman as the rest and as varied in clothing, some wearing heavy cloaks while others were almost naked, but what marked them apart from all the other ghouls where the sickly, smoky green light that blazed to life in their eye sockets and around their hands.

"Get the necromancers," Mathias snarled urgently. Maurus almost protested, they were barely holding on as it was, but he shut the thought away and kept pace as they struggled towards forward, the warriors circling around the casters as they moved. Arianna's urgent voice rang out, in unison with the other casters, and streams of flame and shards of ice streaked towards several of the necromancers, only for most to be intercepted by ghouls that leapt into their path. Only the undead warlock who had banished Arianna's void walker had any reaction, his rotten face twisting in terror. He took a step back, before he seemed to gather himself, his mouth stretching into a parody of a smile, staring straight at Arianna.

"Fear is for the living, elf," he hissed, as some of his fellows launched fire and shadow at the group of Horde. But most of the undead intoned a chant Maurus didn't recognize, though the anxiety he noticed in those around him also affected him.

Columns of green smoke appeared around them and for just a heartbeat, Maurus couldn't fathom what happened. Then he recognized an attacking ghoul as one he'd just felled and saw, on his right, an orc rise to his feet, his intestines still hanging from his belly, turning dead eyes on Maurus.

His blood pounded in his head and his grip on his weapon tightened to the point where it should have been painful, yet he couldn't feel it. His gaze fixed on the necromancers.

"I'll rip you apart for this abomination!" he roared, his blood coursing through his veins like boiling lead. He pushed forward, taking the lead in the formation. He didn't pay any attention to the claws scraping against him, hardly noticed the swords, though he did register that Mathias and Payta were at his sides. He saw more ghouls crumble under Arianna's magic assault, heard the dragon-like roar of one of Wiven's spells and somehow felt the presence of the void walker behind him.

The undead warlock closest to them chanted something and Maurus felt something cold flow over him, a whisper of fear that sought to take hold of him, but it could not penetrate his rage. The warlock started backing away instead as Maurus noticed a rumble in the ground.

Bone cracked and limbs snapped as a kodo barreled through the undead on Maurus' right, the tauren riding it shouting in gleeful defiance, swinging a hammer at the ghouls clinging to his mount. Maurus didn't know how it had gotten the space to build up that speed, but he also didn't care. In the wake of the rampaging kodo came another group of Horde, using the opening to hack down the ghouls that had nearly been knocked back by the charge.

"Keep up," Maurus roared and followed the kodo. The undead clawed at them from the sides, trying to bog them down again, but with the room given to them by the kodo, the support of the other Horde warriors and the momentum they were able to build, it was easier to keep the ghouls at bay and the intelligent undead didn't have as much of an advantage.

Maurus stomped towards the undead warlock. He'd managed to throw himself aside from the charging kodo and was scrambling to his feet, but Maurus didn't let him get up. The heavy axe split open his chest and the flickering green light vanished from the warlock's eyes.

Maurus' gaze settled on the necromancers as he continued moving. Several of those not crushed underfoot were knocked off balance by the rampaging kodo and were quickly dispatched by powerful strokes Maurus' axe as he followed the kodo.

He spied another warlock, edging away along one of the buildings and he roared in challenge, leaping at him. A flash of cold, green energy numbed him from shoulder to elbow, but his axe was already in motion and the warlock's head went flying from her shoulders.

He hacked and kicked, his rage fueled by the sight of too small ghouls and the screams of dying Horde. It was very sudden when he realized the tide had turned. The Horde had recovered from the surprise and with the ghouls dying faster than they could be reanimated and the steady elimination of the intelligent undead, the battle was almost won. The mass of undead was thinning rapidly, and some of the more intelligent undead were retreating. Maurus ground his teeth at the thought of them escaping but the sight of a small group of wolf- and raptor riders on the other side of the undead dispelled that worry. The riders with the regiment must have hurried out to harry the undead when the attack first began.

Lifting his axe from another dead ghoul, he was surprised to see neither enemies nor allies close by. Many of the Horde soldiers had passed him, now fighting ghouls out in the fields. He spotted his own group of casters and fighters almost immediately, a little ways off, fighting a small group of ghouls of which a few were armed. Feeling exposed and guilty for leaving the group, and saddened to see that they had lost the paladin and the troll mage, he hurried to rejoin them, even though it looked like they had things well in hand.

He'd hardly finished the thought before he was proven wrong. Without Maurus and the paladin he never got the name of the fighters around the casters were spread more thinly and two sword-wielding undead pushed into the circle, raising their blades to strike Arianna and Wiven, who had their backs to the attackers and Maurus.

"Watch out," Maurus yelled, heart in his throat. He was already moving as fast as he could and he knew he'd be too late.

Mathias wasn't though. He swept in from the side, swinging his sword with blinding speed, slashing through the spine of one ghoul and skewering the other through the heart. Arianna whirled as Mathias pulled out his sword and turned fully to her and her eyes went wide and wild, her hand right hand coming alight with dark energy, a quick incantation spilling from her lips.

Maurus winced when Mathias slammed his shield into Arianna's nose. The magic coalescing in her palm instantly snuffed out as she staggered backwards and Maurus clenched his teeth, feeling a hot flush of anger as he saw the blood spray from her nose.

By the time he reached them, Mathias had circled around Arianna and helped Payta and Wiven dispatch the last ghouls. Mathias looked at him, gave him the rictus grin he often wore and said:

"Glad you joined again. Though you seemed to have your own party."

"What was that?" Maurus demanded angrily.

"I wasn't keen on feeling that spell," he said unconcernedly, bending down to wipe his sword on the trousers of a dead ghoul. He glanced over his shoulder and tilted his head in a gesture of slight puzzlement. "To be honest, I expected more control from her."

"And you had full control over that shield?" he asked, the words sharp though.

Mathias shrugged, though his grin faded a little. "Lashing out when someone aims magic at you is instinct. You should know that."

Maurus was about to retort, but bit it down and gave Mathias a stiff nod of acknowledgement before walking over to Arianna. She'd walked the short distance away and stood in the shadow of one of the houses, the void walker looming beside her, her staff leaning against the wall. She looked more worn than he'd expected, her clothing more torn than he'd noticed and cuts and scrapes could be seen where her skin was exposed. The hand she was holding over her nose was stained with blood and so was her chin. There was scowl on her face, but she wasn't directing it at Mathias. Instead, her eyes were on the dim sky above.

The blood and the scrapes reminded Maurus of his own condition. Now that the battle rage was fading and his pulse was slowing, he could feel his body ache with the beginnings of massive bruising. He licked his lip and tasted the blood from where a ghoul had sunk its claws into his cheek.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly.

She turned her scowl on him. Her voice sounded odd, like she had a cold, when she answered and her tone was harsh:

"Except for being annoyed that the worst injury I got in this fight was from one of my allies, I'm just fine."

"Broken?" Maurus asked, trying to keep his voice calm despite the spark of angry heat that welled up in him as he glanced at Mathias again. Arianna simply jerked her hand away from her face, revealing a nose that had been squashed to the side and Maurus grimaced.

He quickly glanced around for healers, but the sight of the battlefield, now silent but for the moans of the wounded and the shouts of the other living Horde made him give up that search with a dry swallow. Any healers here had better things to do.

"You have a stone of your own?" he asked. She shook her head.

"I used it already." She fingered a cut in her robe, about the length of Maurus' thumb. "About when you went after the second necromancer."

Maurus' gut twisted and he swallowed. "I apologize," he said glumly, lowering his axe to the ground before he fished the health stone out from the pocket he'd hidden it in. He held it out to her.

"Use it," she said sourly. "You're going to be one big bruise tomorrow from how you took those blows."

"Aren't you the one always saying I should use what I have?" Maurus asked flatly. He couldn't deny her words but he wasn't going to voice that agreement right then. He pushed the stone at her and added: "I just get bruises, they'll fade. That nose will be crooked for the rest of your life if we don't fix it. Take it."

That made her accept the stone and he grasped her chin with one hand, his fingers huge against her small, delicate face. He thought he felt the slightest tremble in her frame and for a moment he wondered if he should get someone else to do it. He pushed the doubt aside. If he could fix noses on a goblin and a troll adolescent, he could fix Arianna's.

"Deep breath," he said to Arianna, then jerked her nose back into place. He could feel her jaw clench between his fingers and the air escaped her in hiss. He let go of her nose almost immediately but not before he felt the heat of the health stone working its magic on her. It seemed she'd crushed the stone the moment he wrenched her nose back into place. He let go of her face and half-turned, ignoring the void walker, which had moved slightly closer and seemed on the verge of violence.

Looking out over the road, Maurus' eyes were drawn to the dead Horde, most of which were so brutalized that it must have been from getting cut down more than once. The few, very small bodies that were scattered here and there didn't escape his notice either and he swallowed thickly before dragging his gaze away, letting it settle on Arianna again. She had gone back to looking at the sky, though her eyes strayed to the bodies and to Mathias seemingly against her will. She looked slightly ill, paler than usual.

"Why did our favorite undead deserve a face full of magic?" Maurus asked, attempting to put in some levity into the words.

"He didn't," Arianna spat, folding her arms, still looking at the sky. Maurus frowned, tilting his head slightly.

"Should I worry-" he began, only to be interrupted.

"It won't happen again," she said, the words clipped and final.

"Arianna," Maurus said seriously, "what's eating at you?" He lifted a hand to place on her shoulder but she jerked away from him and his fingers closed into a tight fist.

"Nothing that won't pass" she said flatly. Maurus snorted derisively and folded his arms.

"Sure doesn't look like it'll pass," he said. He turned his gaze away from Arianna. It some of the travelers were getting ready to take care of the corpses. Arianna didn't answer.

"You sure you don't have something you want to get off your chest?" Maurus asked again.

Arianna blew out an irritated breath.

"Do you want to talk about your dealings with the goblins, Hero?"

Something twisted in his gut, even as hot anger rolled through Maurus. He snapped his gaze back to Arianna, giving her a glare, one she returned in full. Then he crouched down and snatched up his axe with a violent motion.

"Fine," he half-spat. "You should get your pet to do some heavy lifting too, this'll take a while."

With that, he turned and walked out to help with taking care of the dead.

* * *

><p><em>Well, that took longer than I'd hoped. University is kicking my ass, so that's my excuse, though I can't claim my work ethic is perfect either. Hope this was enjoyable. Next chapter should take us all the way to the Dark Portal.<em>

_Let me know what you think. Any criticism is welcome, unless it is simple abuse._


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